


The Boy Down The Road

by SoGayItHurts



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, El Clásico, James Rodriguez Lives Matter Lads!!!, M/M, The raf and Marc is near the end, give rafinha and Dani the best friends award, was gonna do some cressi but homeboy Leo doesn’t deserve that devil not one bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 15:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18101585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoGayItHurts/pseuds/SoGayItHurts
Summary: There’s a boy down the road.Neymar’s never spoken to him but he always passed him when he was walking to school. And they’d smile at each other, more often than not. And sometimes Neymar would wait, and wait, until he saw the boy come up the road, and they’d givetheir natural smiles, and he’d continue his journey to school.





	1. ~

There’s a boy down the road.

Neymar’s never spoken to him but he always passed him when he was walking to school. And they’d smile at each other, more often than not. And sometimes Neymar would wait, and wait, until he saw the boy come up the road, and they’d give   
their natural smiles, and he’d continue his journey to school.

They’d never spoken before, but Neymar was sure that he was relatively new to the area. And he went to Real Madrid High, which should have made Neymar loathe him, but he hardly felt any different.

And the boy was pretty. He had really perfect freckles that covered his face, soft hair that was always swayed back, and eyes that looked somewhat like crystals. The corners of his eyes always creased when he smiled, which he seemed to do very often. His teeth were bright and when he smiled it lit up the atmosphere.

Neymar had never heard him talk but he bet his voice was beautiful.

And everyday, they’d walk passed each other, smile and be off on their way to their rivalling schools. Sometimes, Neymar was inquisitive about the boy, wanted to say ‘hi’, and ask about himself, but he never did.

There was a boy down the street, and Neymar hoped that that wasn’t all he’d ever be.


	2. ~~

“I bet you €500 you won’t throw this at Miss,” Neymar whispered, sitting at his desk beside Dani and Leo, and holding up an empty glass measuring tube.

They were meant to be marking each other’s science work, but they’d instead decided to play with the equipment behind them and make jokes about dumb names of chemicals (well, Dani and Neymar were, while Leo just told them to be normal for once).

“Oh, really?” Dani smirked, grabbing the glass and hurling it directly to the teachers desk, who immediately looked up and rolled her eyes.

“Dani, Neymar, what have I told you two about touching the equipment?” She sighed, god she was far too tired to deal with idiots during last period on a Friday.

“My bad, miss, I thought I saw a fly,” Dani stifled in his laughter as he apologised and turned back to a cackling Neymar and Leo, who was shaking his head, although there was a small smirk growing on his face.

There were usually dismissed from class early to get to training, so they hardly took any of their lessons seriously, aside from Leo, who just tried his best to excel and please his teachers.

Whilst his friends acted like a bunch of buffoons with little to no educational enthusiasm and a grand total of three braincells.

“Miss, we have training to get to,” Neymar called out while she was halfway through teaching. She looked at them once, and then at Leo for assurance (it was hard to trust Dani or Neymar), and then dismissed the three of them.

——————————

“Alright boys, you’re a bit late,” The coach scolded at them, but nevertheless, told them to get ready and start with the other boys.

Training was always entertaining, everyone on the team was great friends, and passionate about football, and it was a chance to hang out with friends that were in separate classes. They had a match every week, and had won the entire league in their city twice since they started at the beginning of year.

Real Madrid High, who had always been their greatest rivals and competition, had only ever won it once. And there was always that great deal of tension whenever the two schools would see each other around, there’d been countless fights breaking out and constant disruption to the general public.

And there was the biggest rivalry the schools had ever seen: Messi vs Ronaldo. Or more so, their football teams, and with their well-awaited match coming up after the weekend, the boys were trying their best in training.

“It’s so boiling, oh my god,” Rafinha muttered as they went back into the changing room.

“Acting like you did anything, useless shit” Neymar teased, nudging his friend, whilst walking to his locker.

“Oh shush,” Rafinha chuckled, “we’ll see who’s useless when we play Madrid High,”

“The infamous Rafa FC versus Real Madrid High FC is my favourite match,”

“You bet it is,”

They got changed, and Gerard suggested they go out for ice cream, to which everybody immediately accepted. There was a nice little milkshake store not far from the school that they could go to, that served impeccable ice-cream.

And with a final pep-talking about their coming match from their coach, the boys were off and heading to get themselves some well-deserved treats.

————————————

They’d been there for a solid half hour, crowded around a large table, all laughing and chatting about anything they could, eating their ice-cream and having a good time.

And then the door opened.

Another equally large group of boys walked in, also laughing to each other, bright smiles plastered on all their faces.  
But then the froze.

And the Barca boys froze. And there was an awkward silence, as Leo looked up only to be met by the eyes of none other than Cristiano Ronaldo and his friends.

Tension entirely destroyed the atmosphere, and Leo and Ronaldo’s flares grew stronger and stronger, and it looked as if some of the lads were about to throw hands.

“Messi,” Cristiano simply states.

“Ronaldo,” Leo replied.

After their aggressive acknowledgement of each other and a staring content that lasted far too long, Cristiano looked back at the door.

“Guys, let’s order and head straight to mine. I don’t think we’re wanted here,” And with that, they stood, as close to the door as possible and waited for their orders to be made.

There was still an aggressive feel in the air, Leo didn’t stop making eye contact his his opponent for far too long, and one of the Real Madrid boys was attempting to not rip someone apart.

“They’re here!” A madridsta cried, and Cristiano began to hand them all out, one by one, to every person, all he had to do was call out a name. And when everyone had taken theirs, and there was only one left, Cristiano smiled at the worker.

“Can I get two straws in this?” He asked, and Dani snorted as the Barca boy’s listened in, waiting for the moment they left to start the giggling. They didn’t see why he needed two straws.

“James, babes, you can share with me,” Cristiano called, and a boy pushed his way through the crowd, beaming at the taller boy and then giving him a gentle hug. Neymar was about to drop his ice-cream.

Because right in front of him, this boy who, when they had payed for the food, had left the shop with Cristiano’s hand around his waist, was familiar and he knew just were from.

This boy with those pretty eyes and enlightening smile and smooth black hair, this boy who was supposedly called ‘James’, this boy who had SOME sort of relationship with his friend’s worst enemy...

Was the boy down the road.


	3. ~~~

“NEY!” There was a musical knock on the door as Neymar ran down the stairs, dressed in a very basic dark red Nike tracksuit with a black hat.

One of the girls at school was holding a huge party, seeing as the year was coming to an end and they’d be leaving high school soon. She invited people from schools everywhere, from all schools in the area.

“I’m coming, calm your tits,” Neymar called out to his friends on the other side, he gave his mum a quick kiss on the cheek and then left, rather hyped for the party.

Leo, Dani, Luis and Neymar walked to the venue, which was an extremely large villa that had the door fully open and music blaring out.

Smiling, they walked in, and were met by their other friends, who were talking to some of the girls from Atletico High. They joined in and chatted.

“You guys are playing Real soon, aren’t yah?” One of the girls randomly asked, practically sitting on top of Ivan.

“Yeah, and just like last time, we’re gonna win,” Dani smirked, and high fived Leo.

“Or the time before that when Cris scored three goals and you guys lost?” A pessimistic girl rolled her eyes at them and they all glared at her for a second before she got up and left.

“Don’t mind her, she’s had the hugest crush on Cris for the longest time,” One of the other girls apologised.

“So does everyone else here,” Leo rolled his eyes, “The amount of girls in OUR school that squeal every time he fucking looks in their direction,”

“In your own school? Deep,” Another girl replied.

“Well, it’s not like Leo’s gonna sleep with any of ‘em, he’s got the brain of a middle-aged doctor that has three kids and a mortgage,” Gerard nudged him.

“Shut up,” Leo rubbed the back of neck.

“The worst thing is, it isn’t just the girls, all the guys fucking fall to their feet when they see him, too, like who’s left? The teachers?” The girl sitting with Ivan spoke, she had a finger in his hair and he had an arm wrapped around her.

“Have you seen the new kid he’s with?” A girl asked them.

“I think we saw him, his name’s James right?” Rafinha asked, and Neymar’s head spiked up suspiciously fast.

So he WAS seeing the boy down the road, the boy that innocent smile, those pretty eyes, was in a relationship with the devil himself. The enemy. 

The girls nodded, and then the subject immediately moved on. After a while, people began to get up and onto the dance floor. Neymar was dragged along with Dani and Gerard and the music was turned up, as everyone went wild.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cristiano, standing with his arms wrapped around a shorter boy, smirking at him and then slowly beginning to pull the boy’s shirt up, until it was entirely off and the Portuguese boy looked at his partner’s bare chest and brushed his finger up and down it.

He whispered something into his ear, placed a hand on the boy’s ass, but received a gentle shake of the head from his partner. Neymar watched the frown grow on Cristiano’s face, before the boy he was with said something else and Cristiano’s frown was replaced with a smirk.

He grabbed hold of the boy’s hand and then led him out of the hall and up the stairs. And as they were leaving, the boy turned around and watched the other people, Neymar could tell from his lifeless eyes that he was signalling for any sort of help, any sort of assistance.

The boy down the road. James. 

And then he met Neymar’s eyes and looked like he was pleading for help, even though he wore that smile on his face and had an aura of joy around him. But Neymar could do nothing except watch.

As James left to do god knows what with Cristiano Ronaldo, who was holding his shirt in hand and winking at a couple people as they left, Neymar could only watch.

And pray that he would be okay.

—————————

 

Neymar was tying his laces when he heard some sort of argument coming from behind him. He turned around to see Gerard, and Sergio Ramos squabbling.

They were meant to be getting ready for their ever famous rivalry match in about ten minutes, but Sergio and Gerard decided it was best if they just had a fight, just as they did every time they interacted. There had never been a time in which the two were in the same room and NOT at each other’s throats.

“Oh so you wanna fucking fight?” Gerard spat, tilting his head to appear aggressive.

“Yeah, I wanna fucking fight a pimp like you,” Sergio replied, and Gerard scoffed.

“You wanna go right now?” 

“I would but I don’t want your retarded teammates interfering like they always do,” 

“Don’t you dare call my teammates retarded, you piece of shit, you know what? Meet me near the park benches after the match,”

“Not alone! You’re probably gonna suck my dick or some shit,”

“And what if I do?” Gerard smirked at how uncomfortable he’d made his nemesis, whose eyes widened and skin blatantly grew redder.

“I’ll fucking knock you out before you even get the chance,”

“We’ll see about that, Ramos, we’ll see,” Gerard simply agreed, and then Sergio was off, and the Barca boy was going over to Neymar.

The Brazilian began to have a casual conversation with Gerard, knowing how heated up he’d get if you mentioned Sergio in front of him, and they laughed about Dani’s hairstyle until they were told to get ready and line up.

For a high school match, Barcelona High v Real Madrid High was actually taken pretty seriously, most people from other schools would show up, though they were divided over what team they were rooting for. They only had a small audience capacity (being an unprofessional school field) but they always managed to find a way to fit everyone in, though looking at the amount of people, god knows how.

They were on the pitch, standing in line and getting ready to shake hands (which both teams seemed to loathe). Neymar went along the line of Real Madrid players, hardly bothered and only looking up every once in a while. It was nothing new.

Until he shook hands with a soft-palmed male, that sent a wave of electricity through his arm, and somehow managed to force him to look up. And there he was. The boy down the road.

He’d never seen his face THIS up close before but my god, he was beautiful. He had perfect freckles, unfairly straight teeth and evenly-shaped eyebrows and the most amazing facial structure that Neymar just KNEW he was staring.

Since when did James play football? For Real Madrid High?

“Hurry up, mate, we don’t have all day,” Luis called from beside him, snapping him back into reality and Neymar quickly let go of his hold and moved on.

And the match began, there was a loud jeering from the crowd, so loud that it was unclear who anybody was cheering for. But the game began and the boys were all ready to play their best.

Real Madrid played aggressively, they had an extremely strong defence, but it appeared that they only had one tactic when it came to scoring: Pass to Cristiano.

And it seemed to be working, Cris had already scored two goals (granted, one was a penalty because Jordi went a bit too far defending) and Real Madrid were winning 2-0 at half time.

“Lord, I hate those kids,” Marc sighed as a circle of bothered Barca boy’s crowded around a water fountain.

“Don’t worry, we got this, we still have the second half left, we’ll give them their fun and then obliterate them in the last half. Give them something to talk about,” Leo encouraged, and eventually, the boys’ spirits were raised slightly more. They were going to win. 

The moment their referee blew the whistle, the second half was already in Barca’s favour, as Ivan, with incredible pace, made his way towards Luis, elegantly passing and then running back. Luis curled the ball to land directly onto the feet of Lionel, who did what he did best and shot the ball directly into the back of the net. 2-1 and they had so many minutes left to go.

Fifteen minutes later, Sergio kicked the ball Neymar’s way, and in mid air, he jumped up and booted it straight past the goalkeeper and defenders, and watched it hit the net, before being attacked by his teammates. 2-2 and Real Madrid were growing impatient.

It was twenty-five minutes into the second half when it happened. Gareth was in possession of the ball, before he kicked it over to James, who looked around once, and notice Cristiano’s frantic waves and calls of his name.

“JAMES! IM OVER HERE!” Cristiano yelled, and James looked over at him, before dribbling right past him and managing to kick the ball right under Marc’s fingers and into the goal. 

Neymar watched his face as his eyes widened when he realised that he scored. And then he covered his face and sat on the ground, hands shaking. 

His teammates began to surround him, and the referee had to walk over to see what was wrong. Neymar himself was slightly worried about what had happened and edged closer.

He kept his face glued to his hands, until Cristiano came over, barging past and then pulling James up. As he did, James’ hands moved from his face, to reveal cheeks drenched in tears and a look so entirely broken that it hurt Neymar to look.

What had happened? He scored a goal, and suddenly he was on the ground sobbing, what went wrong? Neymar wanted to ask him.

But he was already being scooped up by Cristiano and held in the taller man’s arms. He was repeating something, and Neymar wasn’t sure what it was,and it wasn’t before he moved a step closer that he heard the gentle voice repeat, over and over:

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

And Neymar was sure he felt his heart sink in his chest. Because this was the first time he’d actually heard James’ voice and it was because he was frantically apologising for God knows what. 

Eventually, their coach subbed James off and the match was continued, the people in the crowd were slightly confused but nonetheless, the match went on.

The referee blew the whistle at the end of the match, after a last-minute goal from Lionel, and the match’s score ended with 3-3. 

And the atmosphere was wild, Real Madrid High wondering how they managed to screw up a 2-0 lead and Barca boys rather disappointed that they didn’t win. And Neymar’s mind was going insane over whether James was okay or not.

He wanted to go over and talk to him, see if he was doing alright, ask him what happened, but as he left the changing rooms, he watched James hide his face and leave alongside Gareth and Marcelo, and did nothing.

And he wasn’t supposed to feel bad, James was a Madridsta, the opposition, the enemy, and he was meant to loathe him, just as much as he hated all the other boys at Real Madrid High.

“NEY!” Dani called from behind him, as the boys all made their way towards the leaving gates, “Jordi said we’re going over to his for the after party, you coming?”

Neymar faintly nodded. After parties were usually alright, and it was enjoyable to watch the odd fight every so often break out between two players from the opposing team (9 times out of 10 it’s Sergio and Gerard).

Neymar himself had only been involved in one fight, and that itself was just him defending Leo from Cristiano, and hardly threw or took a blow before it was intervened by Luka.

“Jordi, where’s you toilet?” Neymar asked as the entered the house, upon finding his friend whom of which had already put the music on and was munching at a crisp.

“Upstairs, down the hall, third door to the left,” He directed, and Neymar patted his shoulder before going off. 

As he was coming back, he walked down the hall, until he past a door that was slightly open, and peaked his head in. And there, sitting with his face looking out the window and gentle snuffles audible, was the boy down the road.


	4. ~~~~

“Hello?” Neymar called, but he received no answer, and he took a few steps forward. 

“You okay?” He asked, but once again, James seemed as if he couldn’t hear a thing. He took a couple more steps forward, until he stood looking over James, and saw his face in the reflection of the window.

He tapped his shoulder extremely gently, and James turned around startled, it was clear he didn’t even notice anybody else was even in the room. A gentle, though rather forced, smile spread across his face, and turned around on the bed.

“What are you doing in here?” James gently questioned, and looked directly up at Neymar.

“Just saw you alone, thought I’d check up on you, but what are YOU doing in here?” Neymar turned the question back.

“Jordi said I could stay here for a bit and calm down... after...” He didn’t need to finish his sentence, and Neymar understandingly nodded.

“Yeah,”

There was a silence that rose between them before James’ smile returned to his face and he beckoned Neymar to sit down.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Neymar, but you can call me Ney,”

“Neymar,” James repeated, “You have a nice name,”

“You’re James, aren’t you? I always hear about you ‘nd Cristiano,” Neymar asked, and James’ eyes widened at the last word before he nodded.

“Everybody knows Cris, not sure about me though, I’ve hardly spoken to anyone outside of my school,” James chuckled gently.

“How is your school? Is it as bad as we make it sound?” Neymar asked.

And James replied. And then the conversation folded out, until it had been an hour, heck almost two hours, of giggling and chatting and feeding each other new information about one another. It was as if they’d known each other for years, and not just two boys on rivalling teams that had never spoke before.

Neymar liked talking to James, listening to his excited voice as he told a story, or watching his eyes shine when Neymar spoke about football or his family, or whatever dumb topic they’d moved on to. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to stop talking with this innocent boy, even his voice box grew weary. If it did he’d just listen, listen to the soft sound of James’ bubbly voice and watch his eyes wrinkle and grin grow.

After far too long, another silence fell upon them and they sat in comfortable quiet. And then, when Neymar thought he might explode if he didn’t ask, he spoke once again.

“Can I ask you something?”

James nodded his head gently and turned his attention to the Brazilian boy.

“You know at the match today, after you scored your goal, what happened?”

James went silent for a bit, almost scanning his mind for an excuse. When his excuse box seemed to fail him he replied.

“Cris wanted to score and I did instead,”

“Is that all?”

James nodded.

“I don’t believe that,” Neymar was in shock, how could ONE person wanting to score being so much pain to the eyes of such an innocent boy? There had to be more to it.

“If I tell you, either you’re gonna think Cris is a bad person or you’re gonna think I’m a weirdo,” James explained and Neymar furrowed his brow.

“James, you’re not a weirdo, and it’s fine mate, you can tell me, I already think Cristiano’s a bad person”

“He’s NOT!” James defending him, though it looked like it pained him to do so, and he fiddled with the bottom of his jumper, “You just don’t know him that well,”

“Well either way, you can tell me, I mean, what am I going to do?” Neymar asked 

When James couldn’t think of any reason why he shouldn’t, he huffed.

“How sensitive are you to curse words?”

“Not at all,” Neymar replied, and James looked at him before he replied.

“He... he...said if he scored a hat trick he’d fuck me so hard I wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week. I know I probably should but I don’t... I... don’t want that,”

“So you scored, so he wouldn’t...”

James nodded, and then a gentle tear slipped down his face, he quickly apologised, wiped it with ease and chuckled.

“I know I sound crazy, you’re probably in shock that anybody would ever NOT want to sleep with Cris,” James slowed down at the end of his sentence and Neymar could see that he was trying not to burst.

“James, it’s fine-“

“I said I was sorry, I meant it, I really did. I said sorry again and again, he said it was okay but I don’t think he meant it, and he was so... angry after the match, I feel horrible,”

“Jame-“

“If I could go back in time I would have given him the goal, I really would have, I really... really would have,” He finished and then he fell gently onto Neymar’s shoulder.

He was silent for a second and Neymar wasn’t sure what to do, the older boys’ head pressing against his shoulder blade. Then James lifted his head, eyes watering and silent tears dripping down his red cheeks.

“Sorry,” The Columbian apologised, and Neymar, feeling empathetic and entirely sorrowful for his newly-found friend, wrapped both his arms comfortingly and gently rubbed up and down his back.

“Don’t apologise,” Neymar stated, which only made James entirely break down. He shook as his forehead fit into the crane in Neymar’s shoulder. And the younger boy could do nothing except wrap his arms warmly around his back and tell him it was okay.

It didn’t take too long before James had recovered, and had his head slowly fall until it was resting on Neymar’s lap, the Brazilian soothing his hair.

“Sorry you had to deal with that, you’re probably thinking ‘what the hell is this kid doing, I don’t even know him’” James apologised, for the billionth time.

“James, it’s fine, I swear,” Neymar replied, with such certainty in his words it was practically a crime not to believe him.

James didn’t reply after that, he just looked up and gifted Neymar with a smile so pure and brightening that it could distract anyone from the fact he’d just been having a breakdown.

In fact, it was very easy to be distracted with James, his wholesome grin covered up the damp glisten of tears on his cheeks, his pupils were such a mesmerising colour that you’d hardly notice the red around it.

They sat in a comfortable silence, the only audible sound was James’ gentle humming against Neymar’s leg. And it was fair to say that neither of them had any plans on moving any time soon. If it were possible, they would have just stayed the way they were forever.

———————————

“Ney?” Rafinha called through the crowd of people, he’d been trying to look for his friend for a while now and he was yet to be successful.

“NEY?” He called, until he bumped into someone, “Sorry, have you happened to see Neymar?”

“I think I saw him go upstairs,” The person replied, Rafinha patted his shoulder in gratitude and then ran upstairs.

“Ney???” He called, bopping his head into a room, only to interrupt a girl and boy getting it off, “Oh my god, sorry, uh, carry on, ignore me”

Slightly embarrassed he moved on to the next room, which was empty, and then next until he found Neymar, sitting on the bed, with someone else. He inspected the stranger’s face closer, and it seemed familiar. And then it hit him.

His eyes widened and he rushed out of the room, clearly almost more traumatised by seeing that than when he walked on the other couple fucking.

Neymar, who’d only noticed his mate in the last second, gently moved James’ head on his leg. He made his way to catch up with Rafinha.

“Wait, where are you going?” James called, and Neymar turned around to the older man’s gentle confused frown.

“I...have to go, but I’ll see you around, James, we can hang out some time if you...want, I can get Marcelo to give you my number,” Neymar rushed as he checked to see how far down the corridor his friend was.

“Ney, wait!” James called, before Neymar could leg it, and just the way he said the nickname made the Brazilian pause in his tracks. “Thanks,”

Neymar felt the warm smirk spread across his face, he looked at James for a bit, so gentle and innocent, and he answered with a gentle and very much honest, “Any time,” before running off after Rafinha.

“RAF! RAFAEL! RAFAEL ALCANTARA!” He called, pacing incredibly fast towards his pal, who was chatting to Marc on the staircase. Swiftly he turned him around and pulled him to a corner.

“Very smooth, Ney, interrupt me in the middle of a conversation,” Rafinha said, crossing his arms, prepared for more of Neymar’s bullshit.

“You saw nothing, alright?” Neymar assured.  
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I saw SOMETHING,”

“Just please, mate, don’t tell anyone,” Neymar didn’t really have a reason for wanting to hide his little emotional session with James, he just felt like people would hate him if he was being that close to a madridster.

“Don’t tell anyone what? The part where you, a dude who’s always said he isn’t attracted to boys, were sleeping with a boy?”  
“I-“ Neymar began but he was interrupted.

“Or maybe the part where you were in bed with a dude that’s in a relationship?”  
“Raf-“

“OR the part where the dude goes to fucking Real Madrid High?”  
“Please-“

“Or perhaps the part where that dude is in a relationship with, I don’t know, Cristiano fucking Ronaldo?” Rafinha questioned, and he had a fair point.

“I can explain,” Neymar raised his hand in surrender.  
“I’d like to see you try,” Rafinha held an amused smirk upon his face.

“Okay, so basically, there’s this guy, and he lives on my road, he’s cute, I’m not gay but like, he’s cute,” Neymar began

“Go on,” Rafinha spoke, smirk slowly growing across his cheeks.

“And he was really sad one day, so I went over to ask him if he was alright, and then he told me what happened, and because I’m such a generous, charitable, kind-“

“Quit blowing your own horn and get to the point,”

“ I listened to him for a bit. And we just so happened to be on a bed, we’re weren’t IN bed together, we were ON a bed at the same time. And he just so happens to have a boyfriend, which is fine because I was just helping him out, I couldn’t care less if he did or not,” Neymar rattled on, even though it was rather hard to believe a word he was saying.

“Mhmm,” Rafinha remained bemused by his friend’s state.

“And that boyfriend just so happens to be old Ronald. Who plays for old Real Madrid High. Which is unfortunate, but it’s fine because we’re not gonna mention it again, me and you. Okay?”

“If you were anyone else I would have been entirely baffled by the bullshit you were just on about, but because it’s you, and you’re my dumbass best friend, I’ll just go with it,”

“So you’re not gonna tell anyone?”

“I didn’t see a thing,” Rafinha did a zipping gesture with his hand against his lips before he was tackled in a hug.

“I know, I’m amazing, now let’s get back downstairs to the boys,” Rafinha lead his friend back to find the other lads.

As the scavenged their way through the crowd of players, they finally reached a circle of people they assumed were their teammates, which was confirmed when Luis beckoned them into the group.

“Do you guys know where Geri is?” He asked and both of them shook their heads. Geri was always at the afterparties, always ready to start a fight.

“Well, I guess, if you find Ramos, Geri won’t be far behind,” Rafinha suggested, as he and Neymar rested on a bean bag.

“I haven’t seen Sergio either,” Sergi added, and then Neymar realised they were probably at the park.

“Geri said something about going to the park after school,” Neymar said, and turned towards Leo who had a small smirk on his face as if there were something in the sentence that amused him.

“Do you guys mind giving him his phone back? He left it in the changing rooms,” Luis requested and Neymar nodded. 

“I’m heading out, anyway, might as well,” Neymar put the phone in his pocket and then gestured for Dani to come with him, “Dani, I’m not interrupting their wrestling match by myself, have you seen how lanky they are?”

And the two were off, saying their final goodbyes. Before he left, Neymar looked up at the bedroom he’d been talking to James in and grinned. The things he’d do to be back in there with James right beside him.

“Oi panini head, are we leaving or not?” Dani whacked him around the back of the neck. He nodded and rolled his eyes before they closed the door and made their way to the park.

—————————————

“I feel like we’re intruding on a serious moment,” Neymar commented, but Dani told him to shut up.

They were waiting behind a group of trees for Gerard, after deciding that approaching Sergio and Gerard during their argument wasn’t the best thing they could do. So they respectively stood and may have possibly been listening in.

“You know what? I’m tired of you, tired of your shit,” Sergio stopped himself from throwing a punch and then said.

“Why would YOU be tired of me? I haven’t gotten a break from you since we were three and it’s been torture,”

“YOU’VE LITERALLY FUCKING SCARRED ME! I have a bump on my neck from when you threw me down the stairs when we were seven!” Sergio proclaimed and Gerard rolled his eyes.

“That was ages ago, you pussy,”

“It still hurts. It’s been ten fucking years and it still hurts, you retarded douche,” 

“Well, I’m sorry, what do you want me to do? Fucking kiss it better?” Gerard questioned, it came out extremely sarcastically just as he intended it to, but Sergio paused before he answered.

“Maybe,” He glared directly at Gerard, expecting Gerard to go just as awkward as he did whenever the older man said something rather flirtatious, but Gerard just glared back.

“Alright then,” And as if it were second nature, he grabbed at the material on Sergio’s t-shirt and lunged for his neck, pressing his lips against it and sucking as if it were his lifeline. Sergio managed to withhold his moans before demanding Gerard to stop.

“You asked for it, you fucking dumbass,” Gerard managed to say between his movements. After what seemed like forever, he let go and stared at the purple mark on Sergio’s neck. There was a moment of silence as Sergio stared at Gerard’s face for a few seconds.

“You hurt my lips, too, when we were ten,” Sergio lied.

“I don’t remember that,”

“Well it happened,” Sergio continued his fib, attempting to keep his aggressive feel. 

Gerard shrugged and then wrapped his arms around Sergio’s neck. And as if it were his lifeline, he pressed against the other man’s lips, so that their noses were almost clashing. 

“Let’s go home,” Dani turned back to Neymar, they were both equally as baffled and confused.

“But Geri’s phone-“

“We can worry about that tomorrow. Let’s go home,”

And they did, still entirely bedazzled by what they had just had to witness. Neymar had a little smirk on his face that evening, maybe he wasn’t the only Barca boy that may or may not have been falling for a Madriddie.


	5. ~~~~~

“Guess who it is?”

A couple weeks had gone by, and Neymar had kept contact with James since, they’d met up five or six times, and usually had conversations via text on most nights.

It was about 7pm and they’d decided to meet up at the park. Being a few minutes late, Neymar found James sat at a bench and approached him from behind, wrapping his hands around James’ eyes so he couldn’t see.

“I wonder... could it be the devil himself?” James joked and Neymar let out a single chuckle, hopped over the bench and sat beside him. 

“You’re not far off,” He winked, and they waited a few minutes before getting up to stroll around.

They’d been walking for at least half an hour, going in circles and chatting about practically anything they could when Neymar decided he wanted to go into the kids swing set.

“If you ACTUALLY think ketchup is better than barbecue sauce I’m going to cry,” James dramatically said.

“I do, and I’m not sorry,”

“Oh my god, I want a divorce,” James sighed but there was a soft grin on his face as he said it.

“You’re not leaving me any time soon, mate, ooooh swings,” Neymar reached for James’ hand and then ran toward the swing set.

“Ney!” James exclaimed, but giggled as the wind rushed past them.

When they finally reached the swings, Neymar patted down on the seat. 

“If you sit down, I’ll push you,” Neymar suggested and James rolled his eyes, smiling to himself, as he plopped down onto the seat.

It was calm, Neymar gently pushed against the rope and James swung his legs as he went up and down. There was a moment of silence, which they hadn’t had since they’d seen each other an hour ago.

“Do you miss your old school?” Neymar asked, switching the subject to a more sincere topic.

“Sometimes. But it’s alright, I like Madrid High, I actually have friends here,”

“Did your old school not treat you right?”

“No the people were fine, they just weren’t very friendly, I don’t think I had a single friend there, but it’s okay,”

“If I could, I’d rip apart all their necks for not being nice to you, just you wait,” Neymar almost promised but James let out a gentle scoff.

“It’s fine, Ney, I have Cris now, and Marcelo, and Gareth, Sergio, Luka...”

James turned his head around, pausing the swing movement for a second with his foot and then looking Neymar directly in the eye. Neymar was sure he was about to melt, at the tenderness, the warmth of James’ eyes, his soft face, his perfect features. He really was the boy down the road. 

“And you,” He finally added and Neymar grinned.

“I know, I’m the greatest person you’ve ever met, I get that a lot,” Neymar smirked and James playfully shoved him.

“Wanna go on the slide?” Neymar asked, as James got up from the swing seat after they’d carried on speaking for a while.

“Ney, that’s for kids,” James replied, pointing at the tiny slide.

“So? We’re kids,”  
“Yeah, but it’s for like...babies,”

“Oh well, guess we’re just gonna have to be babies for a bit,” Neymar shrugged and James reluctantly followed him onto the tiny little slide.

They were far too tall for it, and as they sat at the top, James’ legs hung outside the metal. Neymar placed his arms around James waist from behind him and clung on as if they were on a rollercoaster like no other.

“Wooooooooh!” They both cried as they fell from a height of less than 2 metres, laughing as they got up.

 

“Why’s it so cold outside?” Neymar complained when he and James made their way back to the bench. 

“I don’t have a jacket but here,” James giggled as he wrapped his arms around Neymar.

“Thanks James,”

“You’re welcome,”

After a few minutes of melting into the warmth of James’s chest, Neymar’s mind suddenly sparked, he wondered if maybe this wasn’t friendly, maybe James thought Neymar actually liked him, he’d ruin their friendship. So he jumped up and began running towards the park’s gate.

“Race you to the gate, bitch,” He yelled and James got up immediately, and sped after him. When he’d caught up with him, Neymar tugged at his shoulder, which was a very, very dumb mistake.

The two boys both went tumbling to the ground, rolling over each other until, they came to a halt, and James lay directly on top of Neymar, his breath hitting the side of Neymar’s cheek.

They were close. So close infact that if Neymar to move even in each he would have been nose to nose with the Columbian. So he did nothing, just stared into James’ face, into his eyes, and the freckles scattered across his cheek.

He was going to kiss him.

Well, not really, but if he didn’t do something about it, he certainly was. Because the urge was too demanding, and James was too close, and he didn’t know it then, but it was what he wanted to fucking do.

“We should be getting home,” James said, rather casually, before pushing himself upward and waiting for Neymar.

 

Neymar brushed his jeans off and then began walking swiftly beside James. That was probably one of his favourite things about hanging out with James. No matter what happened, no matter what he said, no matter what they did, James would bounce back as if it never happened.

Every time he thought that maybe, James might have felt uncomfortable about how close he’d get sometimes, James would show that gorgeous smile of his and Neymar knew it was okay. 

As they walked home, still yapping and yapping about virtually nothing, the stopped outside of James’ house.

“Well then…” Neymar began, as he gave James a quick and gentle hug.

“No point in saying goodbye, you’re gonna be texting me in like five minutes,”

“Alright then, see you in a bit, mate,”

“I certainly will,” James scruffed Neymar’s hair, before turning around and entering his home.

Neymar stood by himself and sighed.

For someone he’d only known properly for a couple of weeks, he sure did feel like he was at home whenever he was around James. 

When he reached his house, he got a notification from James, a text that read

Miss me already?

He smiled to himself softly, and replied back just as fast with a short and most definitely true

Maybe so,

And that night he fell asleep with an innocent and gentle smile plastered on his face, just as he did whenever he hung out with James. And it struck him as he rested upon his pillow, that maybe, just maybe, he wished James wasn’t taken. Partially, but only a bit, he wanted to be able to be that close with James. He wanted to cuddle him, kiss him, never had anyone made Neymar as soft as James did.

With the image of a beaming James plastered in his head, he dozed off.

—————————

 

“James!” Cris hissed from behind him.

It was the next day, and they sat in their last lesson, English, waiting to be dismissed.

“Yeah, Cris?” James turned around, smiling softly as his boyfriend.

“Wait for me outside, alright?” Cris instructed, and James nodded his head.

James was let out and he waited outside alongside Gareth and Marcelo. He was still very much overly enthusiastic after his time at the park with his friend Neymar. It was always refreshing to be around him, James wasn’t sure what it was but he had something about him that just made the Colombian smile at the thought.

As he was chatting to Gareth about something his art teacher had told him, he felt two heavy hands wrap around his waist and something press against his back.

“You coming to mine?” Cris questioned and James could already sense what he wanted. 

“I don’t know, are you guys coming?” James quickly switched up the mood, moving his body from Cris’ grip and then locking his hands with the older boy’s.

“Don’t see why not, sure,” The growing group of boys agreed, and Cris simply went with it, leading the way out of school with James’ hand laced in his.

Cris’ house was huge, large enough to fit at least four families, his parents didn’t mind the lads coming over, so they slept over rather frequently, it wasn’t that much of a deal. The only issue was that Cris felt more comfortable in his home than he did anywhere else when it came to James, meaning he knew exactly was to come.

As they reached the house, the group of boys made themselves comfortable on the sofas in the living room. Deciding what to do, they voted to watch movies for a bit and then go out to play football.

James liked the idea of watching movies, usually it meant he could just go to sleep, while Cris soothes the back of his neck, or played with his hair. He liked that. And sometimes the movies distracted Cris when he was horny and James could get some rest.

“Where’s Serg at? Haven’t seen him in forever?” Isco asked, to the agreement of many of the other boys.

“He told me he had a family reunion to go to after school,” Marcelo replied.

“That’s weird, he told me he had to get food for his mum or something,” Marco commented.

“He told me he had a headache,” Luka also added, and the boys’ faces were plagued with confused face, but nonetheless they moved on and the subject was changed.

“What we watching?” Cris asked, as they took out the bowls of snacks. Cris’ parents were hardly ever home, so he could practically do anything his wanted and there’d be little consequence.

“I was thinking, a horror movie,” Keylor suggested to which the boys agreed upon. Cris clicked on the movie with the most gory front image and the boys waited for it to begin.

James doesn’t like scary movies. Not one bit, he can hardly see a fake monster on the screen for a second without gagging. So this wasn’t the ideal theme they could watch.

To distract himself, he decided to head to the kitchen, informing the boys that he was just popping off to get water. When he reached the kitchen, he opened up his phone to the same contact he always did when he was bored or just wanted to talk to someone.

I hate scary movies, he typed, and waited for a second, until the ellipsis popped up and the person began to type.

That’s a bummer, I was hoping we could go to the cinema to watch the new __ 

Oh please god no, I couldn’t watch that to save my life

Even if I was there to protect you?

Ney, I love you but you’re tiny

I am N O T! 

I’m like almost a full head taller than you

Give me an extra couple of weeks, I’ll be taller than you

Weeks?

Fine, months

You’re saying, by May you’re gonna be taller than you

Fine then, a couple years

Still don’t believe that for a second

Okay, we get it, you’re taller than me, congrats 

James had a gentle smile on his face, as he began to explain about how the boys were watching one of those 18+ films that would make your mother faint at the thought of their child watching anything like it.

Sipping at his water, every so often, he continued to text Neymar until the kitchen door creaked open and Luka walked in. Frantically, James hid his phone behind his back and then wrapped both arms around the cup of water.

“What you doing in here?” Luka asked as he grabbed another bowl and filled it to the brim with chips.

“Just drinking water,” 

For some reason, James didn’t feel like he was comfortable with telling anyone that he was talking to a Barca boy. He loved his friends to death but some of them just weren’t as accepting as James wished they’d be.

“The movie’s almost finished, you can come in now, mate,” Luka kept the door open for him, and James grinned gently as he followed his friend.

As they entered the living room, there was a jeer of ‘weeeey James is back’ before he plopped down beside Cris again. He rested his head against the older man’s chest and wrapped two arms around his body, before moving away and leaned against the sofa.

It seemed as if the gory part of the movie was over, so James watched along with the other boys. Cris’ hand moved up and down the Colombian’s thigh, and he used the other hand to draw imaginary circles on James’ back. 

James knew what he wanted. He already knew what was coming but he chose to ignore it for a bit, pretend he hadn’t noticed and carry on watching. Some part of him, just some part, wished that the movie would never end, just because he knew what was coming when the film ended.

But his hope was in vain, the end credits began to roll and the boys began getting up and heading out to the garden, throwing a football between them as they did.

“Cris, you guys coming or not?” Karim asked, looking between the two boys as they stayed seated in their places.

Yes, yes I’ll be right there, please, I’ll be right there, James thought to himself, but he looked over at Cris who bit his tongue and then shook his head.

“We’ll join you guys in a bit,” He replied and Karim shrugged before leaving to catch up with the others.

When they were alone, Cris grabbed at James colorbone, crashing his lips against his neck and sucking the very life out of it, until there were large purple marks scarred in three different places on his neck. It was nothing new, James had to wear turtlenecks and scarves almost once a week because of Cris’ love for giving him hickeys.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that right? So fucking beautiful,” Cris practically growled, a voice of overpowerment, one that was far too familiar for James’ liking. He ran his fingers up and down the younger boy’s chest, over and over.

“Cri-“ James began but he was shushed with an almost warm hush.

“You don’t need to talk, babe, we’re going upstairs,” Cris grinned, he stood up and tugged at James’ hand, attempting to make him stand up.

“Cris, not today, I’m tired,” James whispered, eyes of worry and a hint of fear. Cris glared at him for a second, and although he didn’t appear angry then, James could tell he was.

“Do you love me?” Cris asked, a slight tone to his voice.

“Yes,” James replied almost too quickly, “I do, Cris, I do,”

“Well, I love you,” Cris lifted him to his feet gently and then slowly lead him up to stairs, “And I’m going to show you just how fucking much,”

It was times like this that James slightly regretted ever thinking this would be a good idea. Sometimes he wished he’d just said no when Cris asked him out, never had to do THIS every single time Cris felt like it (which was a lot more than you’d think).

And he’d wish he was at home, back with his mum and dad, in bed after they’d told him a story. He didn’t have any friends back then, but they were also just such simpler times, warmer, they made him feel welcome, needed, more than just something you could fuck.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as they walked through the bedroom door, a message from Neymar.

You okay, James? Kinda disappeared on me

But how was he meant to answer that?


End file.
